California Dreaming

Music festivals mean summer.

I've been to a few myself: Rothburry '09, Bonnaroo '11.  There's nothing quite like getting a way for a few days sweating your butt off, listening to great live music, boob paint, and steaming hot porta potty's... I digress.

As someone who is facisnated by sixties culture, music festivals allow me to live out my own little yuppie Woodstock fantasy for a few days. However, no music festivals for me this year. I am trying something new (i.e. backpacking).

In the spirit of festival kick off with Coachella, which I have been lusting after... check out my personal photos from music festivals past and my favorite Coachella set so far.

 

Nothing says summer quite like Real Estate's "Days." Can't you picture yourself jiving around at a beach party to this music?

            

 Huge crush on the lead singer with his hipster sunglasses and polo shirt...   

Bad Blogger.

The 30 for 30 didn't work out so hot... I forgot one key element that was essential to making sure I continued to be an upstanding member of society: a washer and a dryer. 

About a week and a half in I didn't have any clothes from the "30 for 30" that were clean... Friends, I like to smell at least decent at work so I had to start rotating in my other clothes. Wah Wah Wah.

Here, I even have proof:

Now quick, distract yourself with my awesome Easter decorations.